


Self Preservation

by spurious



Category: Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Duct Tape, Facials, Gags, M/M, Miscommunication, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Punishment, also a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1230628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spurious/pseuds/spurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hina makes Yoko ask him for permission for everything he does all day. It goes about as well as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self Preservation

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally an idea I planned to write for the kink_bingo prompt "humiliation (verbal)," then abandoned for over a year and picked back up due to some conversations about it. I started writing it and then it just spiraled into this, lol. I've got a lot of feelings about Yoko's feelings, news at 11. Thanks Amanda for the encouragement (and assistance with itunes shuffle title determination) ♥

They’ve been sitting on the couch in their dressing room for about fifteen minutes, just waiting for the time to pass until their turns, when Yoko starts to stand up to use the bathroom.

“Yoko,” Hina says, his voice low with warning, and Yoko startles, sitting back down quickly.

“Are you kidding me?” he says, trying to keep his voice quiet in hopes no one will notice them.

“I told you,” Hina says, “you’ve got to ask.”

Yoko can feel his cheeks heat up; he grits his teeth and crosses his legs, not ready to give in to Hina’s weird demands just yet. When he chances a glance over, Hina just grins at him, all fangs and a glint in his eye. Yoko's pretty sure Hina knows what he wants, and there's a rebellious part of him that just wants to get up, but the horrible part that listens to Hina's orders is stronger and he just sits on the couch, pressing his legs together.

"Something you want?" Hina mutters from the corner of his mouth after a few minutes. Yoko says nothing, teeth pushed hard against his lower lip as he tries not to squirm. "I'll sit here and watch you piss your pants," he threatens, and there's literally nothing sexy about that but Yoko shivers anyway. 

"Can I go to the bathroom," he says, quiet but pleading. 

"You took so long to ask," Hina says, casual. "You can wait five more minutes."

Yoko shoves his knees together, whimpering deep down in his throat. 

Hina leans up against him, letting his fingertips brush over Yoko's thigh. "You've gotta learn to ask nicely," he whispers. 

"Please," Yoko breathes, "please can I go?"

"I told you," Hina says, "five minutes."

Yoko wants to curse at him, but he just says nothing, focusing on his breathing, on the inane conversation Ohkura and Yasu are having, on anything but how badly he needs to pee. He’s got a distraction soon enough, though, because Subaru sits down on the arm of the couch, leaning over to peer at Yoko’s face.

“What’re you two talking about?” he asks, and Yoko immediately suspects he’s overheard, or maybe he just has some kind of pervert sixth sense thing that’s guided him over.

“Nothing,” Yoko says, too quickly and too loud, and Subaru grins at him, the kind of grin he gets before describing a weird sex dream he had in grotesque detail.

Hina laughs, loud next to him. and Subaru’s eyes flick over, his eyebrows arching a bit, and then looks back at Yoko.

“Nothing, huh,” he says, grin getting wider, and Yoko’s mind is nothing but a litany of pleas that Subaru’s won’t press the issue further.

Yoko gets lucky and the door opens, one of the staff coming in and calling Subaru’s name: it’s his turn for recording.

The rest of the five minutes passes agonizingly slowly, and Yoko inches over toward Hina, keeping his voice quiet and remembering what Hina had said about asking nicely.

“Can I please go now?” he asks, voice only shaking a little.

"I like to see you squirm," Hina says, pretending to consider it, "but I don't wanna see you pee your pants, so I guess you can go."

Yoko gets up so fast it’s like he was launched off the couch, practically running out the door.

When he comes back, Subaru’s still gone, so he figures they’ve still got some time. He sits back down on the couch, reaching for one of the magazines scattered on the table in front of them.

"Yoko." Hina says, much louder than before, and Yoko can feel every eye in the room turn to the two of them.

He freezes, then leans back slowly, eyes trained on the floor. The attention seems to shift away from the two of them quickly, thankfully, until Hina stands up, stepping into Yoko’s space.

"Come with me," he commands, not quiet enough that it doesn't draw the eyes back to them.

Yoko can feel himself turning bright red as he stands up, following Hina out the door obediently. Hina leads him down the hall, up the stairs, and into a large bathroom in an out of the way corner. He locks the door behind them before grabbing Yoko and pushing him up against the wall, hands curled too tight on Yoko’s shoulders. Blood thrums through Yoko’s body, every nerve alight at the touch.

“Seems like you need a reminder of what the rules are,” Hina says.

“Seems like you’re an asshole,” Yoko counters. He can’t get settled with the constant weight of Hina’s demands over him, and the easiest way to deal with it is to snipe at him.

“You brought this upon yourself, remember?” Hina says. “And if you keep mouthing off about it maybe I won’t touch you.”

Yoko doesn’t want to invite worse punishment, but he’s still feeling stubborn, so he just says nothing, and in response, Hina shoves him down to his knees. The tile floor hurts when he falls, heavy and unbalanced, but he’s distracted from the pain by Hina unzipping his pants, pushing them down and pulling out his cock.

“If you do a good job,” Hina says, “maybe I’ll reconsider.”

Yoko licks his lips, taking hold of the base of Hina’s cock and wrapping his lips around it. It’s only half-hard when he starts and Yoko can feel it stiffen and grow in his mouth, the skin hot against his tongue and his palm. He sucks down until his lips bump his fingers, pulling back with a wet slurp and then going back down, making a low sound of pleasure when Hina runs fingers through his hair.

“Do a good enough job,” Hina says, his voice getting that rough edge to it that makes Yoko shiver, “and I’ll let you come.”

That’s all the encouragement Yoko needs to take his hand off and try to suck Hina’s cock all the way down. It’s hard for him to do at the best of times, with practice or a slow build, but just trying to get it down all at once makes him choke, tears springing to the corners of his eyes. He keeps trying anyway and Hina groans, tugging at Yoko’s hair and thrusting a bit against the spasms in his throat.

“You’re gonna be all hoarse when you sing,” Hina says, sounding pleased, and Yoko just keeps going, the sounds that Hina makes and the tugs on his hair going straight to his cock.

By the time Hina seems close, Yoko feels like he’s ready to snap himself, like just the lightest touch would be enough to send him over the edge.

"You’re gonna be good and swallow it all, aren't you?" Hina asks, and Yoko grunts in affirmation, too absorbed in the task to get embarrassed now.

Then Hina comes and Yoko coughs against it, some of it spilling out onto his chin when he sits back. Hina rubs his fingers through it, pushing some of it back into Yoko’s mouth.

“Did I do a good job?” Yoko asks, breathless and unable to look up at Hina.

There’s a long pause and then Hina’s petting Yoko’s hair lightly. “Not good enough,” he says. “Keep working at it, maybe tonight I’ll let you come.”

Yoko whimpers, watching Hina tuck his cock back into his pants. He hands Yoko a bit of toilet paper, telling him to clean up his face.

When Yoko stands to look in the mirror, he can see how dishevelled he is, along with the obvious bulge of his cock hard in his pants.

“Everyone’s going to be able to tell what you’ve been doing,” Hina says, low voice next to his ear not doing much to help. “Now let’s get back.”

“Just--give me a minute,” Yoko says, an edge of desperation to his voice.

Hina starts at sixty and counts down, panic rising in Yoko’s throat until he gets to one and grabs Yoko’s wrist, dragging him out of the bathroom.

Yoko shuffles into the dressing room after Hina, his eyes trained on the floor as he concentrates on breathing in and out, willing his erection to go down. He'd rearranged his hair as well as he could while they walked, smoothing out the places where Hina had tugged on it--Yoko stops himself before following that thought process down a path that definitely won't result in a softer dick. He glances up at the clock, settling down on the opposite end of the couch from Hina. There's probably another fifteen minutes before they'll call Yoko for his solo part. He swallows hard, his throat scratchy from coughing and his mouth still tasting like Hina's come. 

He looks around, assuring himself that no one's looking, and says in a low voice, "can I please get some tea?"

Hina looks to be considering it, and Yoko tenses, waiting for the refusal, but he just tells Yoko to get a cup for him too. Yoko lets out a long breath and stands up.

It's nice to have a task to concentrate on, and Yoko can feel himself calming a little as he makes the tea. He brings both cups over, setting Hina's down in front of him before he sits down, fingers wrapped around his cup. Hina looks up at him and smiles, like they're sharing a secret. 

"Good boy," he mumbles, and Yoko kind of hates himself for how pleased the praise makes him feel. 

He sits quietly on the couch, sipping his tea and watching Hina read the newspaper, until one of the staff comes in and calls him for his turn. Yoko starts to stand up, then catches himself. He can feel Hina watching him, waiting. He lifts his teacup to his mouth and says quietly, "can I go, please?"

"Go ahead," Hina says. Yoko thinks it's got to be on purpose, how loud he's being. 

Yoko's face burns as he follows the staff out to the set. Shooting his parts is a welcome respite from the tension of being around Hina, until Hina wanders out onto the set, sitting down next to Maru and striking up what looks like a casual conversation. The whole time he's talking, though, his eyes are on Yoko, his gaze hot and intense. Yoko stutters over the lyrics: the way Hina's looking at him feels like a promise of what's to come later, and Yoko can't help the way his heart beats faster at the prospect. 

Yoko's able to finish his part with minimal problems, the heat of Hina's staring relegated to a slow burn in the back of his mind, and then it's Hina's turn. Yoko comes up to him before he starts, expecting that he'll have some kind of instructions for him. 

"Yes?" he says, eyebrows raised as though he can't imagine what Yoko wants. 

Yoko swallows down the impulse to curse at him and says, uncertain, "what...should I do now?"

Hina grins at him then, just a brief flash of bright eyes and fangs.  "Go sit where I was sitting," he says, turning serious. "You can talk to Maru but I want you to watch me and I want you to think about what you did to deserve this punishment." He's using the low, commanding tone that sends chills of arousal down Yoko's spine. Yoko nods his assent, crossing his arms and going to sit where Hina had been. 

Maru engages Yoko easily when he sits down, and they have a light conversation before just falling into quiet. Yoko watches Hina, thinking of what he'd said. _What you did to deserve this._

Yoko had been on Hina's bed, his hands cuffed together and arms stretched out over his head, legs spread and anchored to each corner. He had no idea how long he'd been there, spread out while Hina teased him. It had been a week since Yoko last came, Hina testing the limits of his resistance. Yoko's whole body shook when Hina eased the vibrator back into him, turned to a setting so high Yoko could feel it behind his eyes. 

"Please," he whimpered, squirming either in an effort to get away from the stimulation or get it to touch the right spot, Yoko wasn't sure at this point. "Please, I wanna come."

"Don't think you've earned it yet," Hina said lightly, running the pad of his thumb up the vein on Yoko's cock. 

"What--" Yoko stuttered, "what do you want me to do?" 

"Dunno," Hina said, and Yoko couldn't quash the impulse to call him a sadistic fucker. Hina didn't say anything, just slapped Yoko's cock hard. Yoko moaned, turned on for so long that the wires for pain and pleasure had crossed somewhere along the way, and any touch to his cock felt amazing. 

It was when Hina started properly fucking him with the vibrator that things really started to get difficult, and it only got worse when Hina bent to tongue and bite at Yoko's nipples. Yoko pleaded with Hina to let him come, Hina said no again, and for some reason that refusal was the one that made Yoko hit his breaking point. He angled his hips, taking the vibrator deeper, and just let go of his self-control, splattering his stomach with come. 

Hina had muttered something furious and terrifying about how if Yoko wanted it that badly, he'd give it to him, and then he forced orgasm after orgasm out of Yoko until he was crying, coming dry and begging Hina to stop through hiccuping gasps. 

Hina had taken care of him after it, cleaning Yoko up and curling up against him until he calmed down. Yoko had thought that the orgasms were his punishment, until the next morning when Hina explained very carefully over breakfast that he wanted Yoko to ask him permission for every single thing for the entire day.

"You need training," Hina had said. 

Yoko's broken out of his thoughts by the feeling of Hina's hand on his shoulder, warm and firm and big. 

"You're really obvious," he says, amusement in his tone. 

Yoko shifts, getting goosebumps. "It's not my fault," he grumbles. 

"All of this is your fault," Hina says pleasantly, and Yoko rolls his eyes. 

As the day drags on, Yoko almost starts to get used to asking Hina for everything. Hina picks what he'll eat for lunch, standing behind him and telling him to take a little more, filling his plate with a mix of things Yoko likes and a few things he doesn't (thankfully there hadn't been cucumbers; Yoko would've had a tantrum on the spot). Hina watches him struggle through eating it all with this approving look that makes Yoko's skin feel tingly and sensitive. 

He's on edge all day, hyper aware of Hina and sticking close to him. By the time they're finished shooting, Yoko feels beyond ready to go home and let Hina order him around in private, but once he's gathered his things and found Hina, he's on the phone with one of his friends.

"Yeah," he says, "we're finishing up just now. I'll be there in half an hour, probably."

Yoko blinks at Hina as he hangs up, sliding his phone into his pocket.

"We made plans weeks ago, it's not like I could cancel," he says, shrugging, and Yoko feels small. He swallows. 

"What should I do, then?" He hates that he's asking anyway, hates the way his voice betrays his feelings so easily. 

"Go back to my place," Hina says. "I'll text you."

Yoko nods, breathing through a catch in his throat and hating himself. 

The first message from Hina arrives maybe ten minutes after Yoko's left the studio. 

_Get yourself something to eat,_ it says. 

There's a frustrating lack of information, and Yoko feels his discomfort rising as he types back _What should I get?_

It's bad enough that Hina's ordering him around with every little thing in his life, but the fact that he's putting it on Yoko to ask for clarification, to lay out his desire to please, makes it that much worse. He can't be begrudging about it if he's asking how to do it better every few minutes. 

_Get a bento from the supermarket. Send me all the options when you get there and I'll tell you which._

Yoko breathes out slowly. He's still uncomfortable, but the desperate, pathetic, small feeling from before is leveling off a bit at the thought that he has a specific task to complete and Hina's not just forgetting about him while he goes to dinner. 

He sends Hina a detailed description of all the bento offered at the supermarket, then paces the aisles aimlessly while waiting for a response. Hina takes a while to answer, long enough that Yoko feels like people are starting to notice him skulking around without anything in his basket, and when he does answer, he’s picked the bento Yoko least wants to eat, but he buys it anyway, taking it back to Hina’s apartment and heating it up, eating at Hina’s kitchen table. He’d asked for a drink, and Hina told him just to have water. He sips at the glass, slowly working his way through the bento. Hina had told him to take a picture once he was done eating, and once the plastic container is empty, Yoko snaps a photo and sends it off to Hina, along with a request to turn on the TV.

 _No TV,_ is Hina’s reply. _Take a shower, no bath, and go to my bedroom._

Yoko takes a shower, feeling annoyed that Hina wouldn’t let him have a bath or any entertainment. He lingers a bit on his cock while washing himself, rubbing up and down it with his wet palm and shivering, thinking of earlier that day, when Hina had forced him down to his knees in the bathroom. He’d do that again right now, all the way down to not being touched at all, if it would mean Hina would get back sooner. He strokes himself longer than he probably should, reveling in the memory of Hina’s hands in his hair, how he felt boxed-in with the wall behind him and Hina in front.

 _That was a long shower,_ is Hina’s reply when Yoko tells him he’s done. _Do something you shouldn’t have?_

 _I was just taking my time,_ Yoko writes back, knowing but not caring that Hina will know it’s a lie.

_Get the leather cuffs from the drawer and cuff yourself, hands behind your back. Turn off the light and sit down on the floor at the end of my bed. You can change positions if kneeling starts to hurt, but don’t get up. Don’t use your phone again unless there’s an emergency. I’ll be home in a while._

Yoko feels like the floor’s dropped out from under him. The message is so terse; Hina’s clearly more annoyed than Yoko expected him to be about such a little lie. He reads the last two lines again, stomach tying itself in knots.

He tells himself that he won’t have to wait too long, there’s no way Hina would be that deliberately cruel, just leave him alone like that. He must be on his way home now.

With the lights off and his phone sitting silent on the nightstand, it’s impossible for Yoko to judge the passage of time. The longer he sits, the more that pathetic needy feeling creeps up on him, clutching at his heart and making it hard to breathe. He starts thinking about Hina, having fun at dinner and probably not even sparing a thought for Yoko, Yoko who’s waiting for him, who’s tried all day to be good for him. It’s not just the fact that Hina said he’d let Yoko come if he was good (though that’s undeniably a part of it), Yoko realizes as he’s sitting cuffed and alone on Hina’s floor in the dark, it’s that he wants Hina’s approval, he wants the genuine, pleased smiles Hina gave him today when he was good. He likes to put up a fight, sure, and likes to feel like he’s got no choice in the matter, but when Hina’s pleased with him it makes a part of Yoko feel good. Realizing this, finally recognizing his obvious disadvantage in this situation, is what sends Yoko’s anger over the edge and makes him stand up, uncuff himself, and get dressed.

He briefly imagines running into Hina on his way out of the building, and the thought’s enough to make him rush out, turning corners jumpily until he gets to a street big enough to hail a cab at. He holds his phone in his hand the whole ride, heart in his throat as he wonders when Hina will get home, what he’ll do when he does. He knows Hina well enough to know how much this will get to him, and he knows he won’t be able to let it go. There’s a part of Yoko that’s excited for it, to get a rise out of Hina and be subject to his full attention, even if it’s negative.

Yoko makes it all the way home without Hina contacting him, and he flops down on his sofa, turning on the TV and watching some mindless show. Even though it only lasted a day, it almost feels weird for Yoko to just do as he pleases in his apartment. He can’t concentrate on anything but the anticipation of the fight he’s going to have with Hina. Hina’s so hot when he’s angry, all threatening tones and rolled r’s, and Yoko shivers just thinking about it. He’s actually considering jerking off for a bit, just so he can tell Hina that’s what he’d been doing, one more piece of defiance to throw in his face, when suddenly he hears the sound of a key in his door.

Yoko freezes, watching as the door swings open and Hina storms in, kicking off his shoes and letting the door bang closed behind him.

“Yoko,” he says, and just that is enough to get Yoko hard, blood rushing to his cock so fast his head spins a bit. Hina’s face is flushed, his eyes wild and his body tense.

“I got bored,” Yoko says, by way of explanation. “Wanted to watch some TV, you know.”

“I--I can’t _believe_ you,” Hina says. “After you were so fucking good all day, what--” He breaks off, crossing the room and grabbing Yoko by his shirt, hauling him up to his feet. Yoko sways just a bit, using every bit of acting skill he has to seem like this isn’t affecting him as much as it is. Hina’s so close now, anger and heat radiating off of him in waves. Yoko stands up straight as he can, bringing himself up taller than Hina.

“I was just gonna jerk off,” he says, “before you came in.”

Hina actually _growls_ , and Yoko can’t help the shiver that runs through him. He feels a kind of perverse power, knowing he’s the one making Hina react like this. Yoko opens his mouth to continue, but Hina shoves four fingers right into it, harsh and pushing back so far Yoko almost gags on them.

“Shut. Up.” Hina says. “I don’t want to hear anything more out of you right now.”

Yoko makes a gurgling sound, just to be defiant, and Hina’s other hand skims over his throat. He tightens it, just a bit, and Yoko thinks he might actually do it before he releases the pressure.

“If I try that now I’ll just do it until you pass out,” he says, and Yoko groans. It’s so rare to see Hina get out of control like that; there’s a part of him that wants Hina to do it anyway. Hina’s hand drops down between them, palming rough over Yoko’s cock. He grabs it, hard, through Yoko’s pants, and then takes a step away, removing all their contact.

“Take your clothes off,” he orders, and Yoko’s halfway to obeying, not even thinking about it, before he stops and pretends to consider it.

“Not sure I want to,” he says, feeling himself grin as Hina fumes.

“I’m keeping track, Yoko,” Hina says, reaching to pull Yoko’s shirt over his head, tug down his pants. “I’m keeping track of every. Single. Time. You don’t do what I tell you. And I’m gonna punish you for every one of them.”

Despite Yoko being deliberately unhelpful, Hina gets the clothes off of him quickly, and then he reaches into the bag he brought with him, pulling out a roll of black tape.

“You came prepared, huh,” Yoko says, swallowing hard as Hina pulls some tape from the roll, the loud ripping sound seeming to echo through the room.

“I’ll start with that fucking mouth of yours,” Hina says, fisting a hand in Yoko’s hair and pulling his head back, hard, before pressing the tape over his mouth.

Yoko grunts, breathing out through his nose. Hina just holds him for a second, hand tight and pulling on his hair and the other lingering on Yoko's cheekbone, right above the tape. 

It's a testament to how angry and worked up Yoko's gotten himself when he lifts his hands, places them on Hina's chest, and shoves him away. Yoko's never one to fight back physically, other than some squirming and small, token struggles, he usually expresses his displeasure with words, or whiny noises if Hina's gagged him. 

Yoko can see the shock in Hina's face as he stumbles back, mouth open. He revels in having caught him off-balance, but then Hina's right back on him, hands on his shoulders and forcing Yoko down onto the couch. Hina's right up in his space, the denim of his jeans rubbing rough and deliberate against Yoko's cock. When Hina grabs for real, there's no resisting him, and Yoko doesn't really want to: he has a feeling that if he gets Hina any madder than this he'll end up with a black eye.

"You don't," Hina's saying, barely coherent, "just--" 

Yoko puts his hands on Hina's hips, not intending to push but just testing, and Hina grabs his wrists immediately, his grip bruisingly tight, and shoves Yoko's hands down to his sides. 

"Don't fucking move again or I swear--" he breaks off, burying his face in Yoko's neck and starting to suck a mark into it. Yoko goes completely rigid, a shiver crackling its way down his right side. They never do this because of work, and Yoko can't help but enjoy both how it feels and the fact that he's apparently driven Hina past the point of considering consequences. He groans, loud and rumbling in his throat, and Hina pulls back. 

Hina climbs off Yoko, pulling him down to the floor with a hand in his hair. Yoko kneels, feeling like his whole body is vibrating from all the rough treatment. He's done enough to work Hina up that his own anger is ebbing a bit in place of satisfaction and arousal, though it still weighs in the back of his head, a small part of him wondering if this is really going to get him what he wants.

Hina steps behind him, and Yoko hears the tape before Hina pulls his wrists together, wrapping them a few times so they're firmly tethered together. 

Hina takes a long, shaky breath. "Is that too tight?" he asks. 

Yoko shakes his head, surprised Hina even bothered to check. Then Hina puts his hand between Yoko's shoulder blades, shoving him forward until his ass is in the air. Yoko's bracing himself for a spanking but instead he hears the tape again, and then Hina's fastening his ankles together. He puts his hand on Yoko's taped wrists to pull him back into a kneeling position. 

"Your ankles okay?" he grumbles, and Yoko nods again.

He can hear Hina standing up, and then he crosses the room and opens the curtains. It's dark, of course, but Hina peers out toward Yoko's balcony, seemingly looking for something. He opens the door and there's a rush of chill air against Yoko's exposed skin, making goosebumps rise quickly. He can't imagine what Hina's doing out there. Maybe he'd needed some air, to calm down?

When Hina comes back, sliding the door closed, Yoko sees what's in his hand and his stomach does a flip: clothespins, from Yoko's line outside. He drops down to his knees in front of Yoko, looking pleased with himself. 

"Oh good," he says, brushing his fingers over Yoko's right nipple, "they're already nice and hard for it."

Yoko whimpers. Hina rarely uses clothespins on him, knowing it's a level and type of pain that Yoko's ill-equipped to handle. The first pin closes over his nipple and Yoko squeals, unrestrained. 

"That's what I like to hear," Hina mumbles, letting the other pin close over Yoko's left nipple. Yoko makes a pained sound and squeezes his eyes shut. 

The only way Yoko can handle this kind of pain is if it comes with pleasure attached, something to distract him from the stinging burn in his nerves. Hina doesn’t seem ready to give him anything like that, or even, for the moment, to distract him with pain elsewhere. He stands up, reaching into his bag and pulling out his cigarettes and lighter. Yoko doesn’t let him smoke inside, and it’s pretty obvious what he’s planning to do.

Hina picks up the can of beer Yoko had been drinking, sitting down on Yoko’s couch and lighting up a cigarette. He inhales slowly, then leans forward, blowing the smoke out into Yoko’s face. Yoko’s eyes water and he tries not to breathe in, making an annoyed sound and glaring at Hina.

“If you’re not going to listen to what I say,” Hina says, flippant, “I don’t have to listen to your rules, either, do I?”

Hina just sits casually on Yoko’s couch, smoking and ashing his cigarette into the beer can (which had still been half full; somehow the wastefulness adds to Yoko’s annoyance).

“I was thinking about putting this out on you,” he says, gesturing to Yoko with the end of the cigarette, “but I don’t think you could handle it.”

It says a lot about Yoko’s personality that a large part of him now wants Hina to do it, just to prove he could handle it, but mostly he’s relieved that he won’t have to suffer that particular pain tonight. The stinging pain in his nipples still hasn’t receded much, just a high sort of ringing through his nerves. It makes it hard to concentrate on anything, almost hard to breathe, even.

Hina drops his cigarette into the can and sets it down, getting up and walking towards Yoko. He’s moving deliberately, like he’s calmed down a bit, and Yoko’s annoyed that Hina’s getting calmer while he’s just stuck here getting more worked up.

“Want these off?” Hina asks, flicking at the clothespins and sending little electric shocks of pain through Yoko.

Still feeling defiant, Yoko doesn’t nod or shake his head, just tries to breathe through the pain. It’s harder to stay calm when Hina grabs both of them and twists, hard. Yoko practically screams, then, his mind going blank with the searing intensity of the pain. Hina lets go, and Yoko sways a bit, lightheaded. He wants to collapse forward onto Hina, but he holds himself up.

“Ah well,” Hina says, “the longer I leave them on, the more fun it’ll be when I take them off.”

Yoko grits his teeth at the thought. Having them taken off provides relief, sure, but not without that awful surge of pain first.

Hina moves so he’s behind him again, and he wraps his fingers around Yoko’s wrists, using the other hand to push him forward. He pushes until Yoko’s forehead is on the floor, his knees spread, and then keeps pushing Yoko’s wrists up and up, the stretch pulling painfully at his shoulders. He’s totally immobilized like this, forced into the position Hina wants for him. The hot burn in his shoulders is a totally different kind of pain from the high stinging throb in his nipples, though, so it’s almost a bit of a reprieve.

Then Hina spanks him, ridiculously hard, hard enough that Yoko totally loses his breath, yelping. Hina doesn’t start out slow or build a rhythm or anything, just hits Yoko over and over until there aren’t any thoughts in his head, just the three separate points of pain on his body. There’s noise, and it takes him a few head-swimming moments to realize that Hina’s talking to him.

“It’s not that hard,” he’s saying, almost every other word punctuated by a slap on Yoko’s hot, sensitive skin. “If you just listened to me, I was gonna reward you tonight. You were good, Yoko. Why’d you have to do this?” He pauses, hitting the exact same spot a few times in sequence.

Yoko can barely process what Hina’s saying, but suddenly he’s letting Yoko’s arms down and he’s back in front of him. Yoko leaves his forehead on the floor, not really trusting in his ability to sit up on his own at this point. His shoulders feel sore, he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to sit down tomorrow, and he’s breathing in heaving gasps, his face wet--had he been crying? Hina lifts him up with a hand in his hair, the pull of it making Yoko’s skin prickle. He blinks, trying to clear his eyes before Hina notices.

“Maybe you’re ready to apologize,” Hina says. He puts his fingers to the tape over Yoko’s mouth and Yoko winces in anticipation of the pain. Hina rips it off quickly, drawing a stifled cry from Yoko’s throat.

“You sorry?” Hina says, expectant.

“Fuck off,” Yoko spits. His heart’s racing.

“Wrong answer,” Hina says, and pulls the clothespin off Yoko’s left nipple, no warning at all. Yoko screams, properly _screams_ , curling in on himself automatically.

“Fucking asshole,” he says, voice shaking as Hina drags him up again.

Yoko expects Hina to go for the other clothespin, but he slaps Yoko’s face instead, his palm connecting hard with Yoko’s cheek.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today?” Hina asks. “Is this what you _want_?”

“Better than you ignoring me,” Yoko says, the words coming out before he can think it through.

“I-- _what_?” Hina says, his face contorting into an expression of total confusion. He pauses, clearly trying to parse what Yoko’s just said. “You’re...mad that I went to dinner?”

It’s so like Hina that Yoko almost wants to laugh. Of course he goes with the explanation closest to the surface, that’s what he’s like.

“While I sat in your apartment like some kind of toy waiting for you to be ready to use me,” Yoko says, surprised at the level of vitriol in his own voice. His cheeks burn at the word choice, but it feels accurate.

“That’s not--” Hina says, eyebrows knitting together. He clearly hadn’t thought it would be a big deal at all, which makes Yoko even madder. "I thought you might get bored, but..."

"Bored?" Yoko does laugh, then, a low, breathy sound. "Yeah, I did all of this because I was _bored_."

"Well obviously I know it's not that now," Hina says, biting back with his tone. 

"Look," Yoko says, staring down at his knees, "I don't do this shit just for my own personal satisfaction or something. I like..." he pauses, lips pursing. When he continues his voice is quieter, the words jumbled together as he tries to get them out before he loses the nerve. "I like having your attention."

He doesn't dare look at Hina after that admission, but he hears him take a long breath, and then he reaches out, his fingers brushing Yoko's knee before he speaks. 

"So, you left because...you knew I'd pay attention to you if I was angry?" Hina asks. To his credit, he sounds like he's trying hard to puzzle out Yoko's motivation. 

"I was also _really_ mad at you," Yoko says, chancing a look up at Hina and biting the inside of his cheek. He lets his eyes fall again, staring at the floor as he talks. "It felt..." Yoko trails off, unable to think of the right words and hating the vulnerability he feels right now. There's a part of him that just wants to crumple and let Hina take over from here, and there's another part that just wants Hina to leave right now. 

"How did it feel?" Hina asks, and Yoko can just picture his face right now, with those earnest, straightforward eyes. 

"Awful," Yoko says, hoping Hina will let him leave it at that. He doesn't want to go into the way he felt almost worthless, abandoned, a lot of other emotions that were almost certainly out of proportion with the situation. 

"You liked it when I made you wait before, though."

A few weeks ago, Hina had tied Yoko up and made him stay there while Hina washed the dishes, took a bath--and he's right, Yoko had liked it. He'd felt like he was ready to burst when Hina finally touched him. 

"That was different," Yoko says, flushing a bit at the memory. The prickling in his skin reminds him that they're having this entire conversation while he's sitting naked and taped up, and it adds a fresh layer of embarrassment. The clothespin on Yoko's right nipple is still sending a steady whine of pain through his nerves, too. 

"Different how?" Hina prods. 

"You were _there_ ," Yoko says, getting frustrated about how dense Hina's being. "Tonight was--I felt so fucking alone, Hina, I couldn't--" Yoko stops, feeling a lump in his throat. The absolute last thing he wants to do right now is cry. He's not that weak, and he hates that he seems that way now.

"I didn't--" Hina starts, then pauses. Yoko's rarely heard him sound so shaken, so unsure of himself. "I guess I didn't think about how you'd feel."

"No shit," Yoko says, anger still apparently simmering through him. "You didn't think about me at all," he grumbles. 

"I was thinking about you the whole time," Hina says immediately, low and earnest. "I barely remember anything we talked about, I couldn't stop thinking about getting home and fucking you."

"Could've fooled me," Yoko says. It's gratifying to know Hina was thinking about him, sure, and it dulls some of the sharper points of his anger, but it's not really enough, at this point.

"Why didn't you say something?" Hina says. 

"Are you fucking stupid?" Yoko mumbles, gritting his teeth.

"It's not like you usually hold back on complaining." Hina sounds kind of resigned now. 

Yoko actually looks up at him, blinking, and he looks properly contrite, his eyes wide and the corners of his mouth turned down. It's annoyingly difficult to stay mad at Hina when Yoko actually looks at him, so he brings his eyes down to his knees again.

"Don't tell me you've known me this long and you can't tell when I'm not being serious," Yoko says, trying to get close to an admission without having to lay all of his feelings out in the open. 

Hina sighs. "Okay," he says. "Okay, yeah, it's different."

Yoko feels relieved he doesn't have to explain further. He breathes out slowly, calming a bit, and shifts his position. His legs are stiff, numbness starting to tingle through them. 

"Oh shit," Hina says, "I forgot, are your legs okay?"

Yoko blushes. "They're, uh, they're a little tingly," he says. 

Hina gets up, finding Yoko's scissors, and sits behind him, cutting the tape that binds his ankles. Yoko wonders if Hina will take the tape off his wrists, too, but he leaves it for now, peeling the tape from Yoko's ankles and helping ease his feet out from under him. Yoko wiggles his toes, rolling his ankles and trying to relieve some of the tingling tension. Hina puts his hands on Yoko's shoulders, just resting them there, and Yoko relaxes just a bit more.

"I'm sorry," Hina says, still behind him, and Yoko nods.

There's a long pause before Yoko speaks. It's easier to speak freely with Hina behind him, sort of like he's just talking to no one. "I guess I sort of made it worse," he admits. 

"Just say something next time," Hina says. "I know it's hard, just. I can't always tell, you know."

"Yeah," Yoko says, feeling a blush prickle at the back of his neck. There were so many reasons he didn't say anything, but he'd just expected Hina to know, somehow, that he'd gone too far. 

Hina rubs his hands down Yoko's arms. "How do you feel?" he asks. "Want some water?"

Yoko nods, breathing in and out shakily. The settling of his emotions makes his physical discomfort more prominent, and he can feel the dryness in his throat, the soreness around his body, and the sharp throbbing pain of the clothespin still on his nipple. Hina gives him some water from a bottle, then kisses him, rubbing soothing fingers through his hair. 

"I'm gonna have to take that off," he says, eyes darting down to the clothespin. 

Yoko stifles a whimper. "I know."

Hina sits behind him again, letting Yoko lean back so he's pressed against Hina's front, his hips bracketed by Hina's thighs and his head resting back against his chest. 

"You were so good for me today," Hina says, mumbling the words into Yoko's ear as he starts stroking his cock. He gets hard fast, all the pent-up sexual energy from the day rushing back to him, and he squirms into Hina's touch, his mind going a bit blank with the pleasure. Hina keeps talking the whole time, telling Yoko all the things he'd been thinking that day, enough praise to make Yoko feel like he almost can't handle it. 

Hina takes the clothespin off just as Yoko comes, and he shakes and writhes and squeals from the mix of pain and pleasure, melting back against Hina and panting. He feels empty, drained of everything that had built up through the day, and it's the most satisfying, floaty feeling. 

Hina skims his hands up and down Yoko's sides while he comes down a bit, his palms warm against Yoko's skin. He's sagging back against Hina, his arms pinned under his own weight, and when he shifts a little, starting to get uncomfortable, he can feel Hina's cock hard in his jeans. Hina lets out a long, shaky breath at the touch, his hands tightening on Yoko's waist for just a second.

"You've got a really short window before I fall asleep," Yoko says, shifting more deliberately this time so his forearms rub against Hina's erection. He still feels shaky and lightheaded, and when Hina grabs him tighter it just makes the feeling all the more pleasurable and intense. 

"I don't think it'll take long," Hina says, voice getting rough already. 

He stands up and Yoko watches him strip off his clothes, tossing them aside one by one until he's naked and Yoko's mouth is watering. He's too far gone now to feel embarrassed about the open, appreciative way he's staring at Hina, licking his lips as Hina grips his cock with one hand.

"You liked being up against the wall today, didn't you?" Hina asks, and Yoko flushes a little bit, embarrassed that he'd been so obvious. 

"Yeah," he breathes. 

Hina pulls him to his feet, hands under Yoko's arms instead of tugging by his hair this time, and there's a moment where Yoko's certain he's going to fall over before he catches his balance, swaying a bit against Hina. He walks Yoko back up to the wall, his hands framing Yoko's face as he leans in and kisses him, aggressive and filled with intent. Yoko slumps against the wall a bit as Hina touches him, just little brushes of fingers over his skin. He touches Yoko's nipple and Yoko whimpers a bit, wincing against the sensitivity and unsure if it feels good or bad. Hina breaks the kiss and eases three fingers into Yoko's mouth, letting him whine around them while he keeps touching Yoko's nipple until he's wriggling and out of breath.

He stops just before Yoko feels like he's going to fall apart at the seams, pulling his fingers out and giving Yoko a second to catch his breath before guiding him down to his knees. He's pressed back against the wall, nothing but Hina in front of him, and it makes Yoko feel overwhelmed, his head spinning pleasantly. 

"Open up," Hina says, touching his cock to Yoko's lips. Yoko obeys easily, closing his eyes and letting Hina slip into his mouth. Even with his eyes closed he can feel Hina leaning over him, can smell nothing but Hina's skin when he breathes in through his nose. 

Hina eases his cock into Yoko's mouth, going slow and letting him get used to it, and Yoko's happy to have Hina direct the pace. He feels barely conscious, floating somewhere outside himself and just enjoying Hina's hands in his hair, moving Yoko's mouth where he wants it. He sucks a little harder and Hina groans, this low rumble above him that sends a shiver through Yoko's body and makes things feel a bit more urgent. Hina picks up the pace after that, and there's nothing but the slick noises of Hina fucking his mouth, the occasional grunts and gasps from both of them as Hina tugs Yoko's hair. 

He pulls out, and Yoko blinks his eyes open, staring blearily at Hina's wet cock in front of him. Hina holds it loosely at the base, his fingers wrapped around it and stroking slowly. His other hand cards through Yoko's hair, fingers scraping lightly over his scalp before he tugs Yoko's head back so he's looking up at Hina. Yoko licks his lips, swallowing around a lump of anticipation in his throat. 

Hina takes three long, loud breaths before he speaks. "You want me to come?" he asks, his voice sounding barely controlled but still commanding, and Yoko nods eagerly. "Beg for it, then."

"Please," Yoko says, watching Hina's hand speed up on his cock. "Please come, Hina, please, I wanna see."

Yoko keeps talking over Hina's groans, half of it nonsense, until Hina interrupts him, voice tight. "You want it on your face?"

Yoko shivers, moaning openly. "Yeah, I want it on my face. Do it, Hina, please."

"Close your eyes," Hina chokes out, and the second Yoko does he can feel Hina's come hit his cheek. He opens his mouth, feeling some of it land on his tongue, his lips, painting a stripe over his cheekbone. 

Yoko loves the way this feels for about half a minute before it usually starts to gross him out, but this time Hina drops down in front of Yoko, licking at his face and into his mouth, and--he's never done _that_ before. Yoko breathes through it, feeling even more drained that he had after his own orgasm. He wants to grab onto Hina, his wrists twisting unconsciously against the tape, and Hina must notice him struggling because he puts his hands on Yoko's shoulders, smoothing them down his arms to hold his wrists behind him. 

"Gonna get the scissors," Hina breathes against Yoko's mouth, and Yoko nods. He slumps back against the wall for the few seconds it takes Hina to get them, and when he's back he just lets Hina bend him forward to get at the tape, cutting it and then pulling it off. The sticky pain of it is harsh in this state, and Yoko whimpers.

"That hurts," he whines, because bitching at Hina feels normal, and Yoko needs something to anchor him. The more he comes down, the more he feels embarrassment settling over him. He'd been so vulnerable, and he feels the shame starting to itch under his skin. 

"Let's get you in the bath," Hina says, ignoring Yoko's halfhearted whining and helping him up. 

"I can do it," Yoko says, knowing his cheeks are flushed, betraying him easily.

“I’m not saying you can’t,” Hina says, slipping his arm around Yoko’s waist. “You know it’s ridiculous to still get embarrassed about this, right?”

“‘m not embarrassed,” Yoko grumbles, letting Hina guide him into the bathroom. Settling back into their familiar banter feels comfortable, and he can’t help the slight smile on his lips.

Yoko lets Hina rub his skin gently with a washcloth, cleaning him off while the bath runs, and by the time he actually climbs into the tub his eyes are drooping, exhaustion edging up into his consciousness.

“I’ll be back in five minutes to make sure you haven’t drowned,” Hina says, and Yoko just waves him off, sinking under the water in hopes of hiding his grin.

**Author's Note:**

> other titles itunes wanted me to use:
> 
> osaka rainy blues  
> osaka obachan rock  
> /=/=/  
> gay messiah  
> you can be as loud as the hell you want (when you're making love)  
> ode to divorce


End file.
